


A Very Hargreeves Winter Holiday

by Glass_O_Lemonade



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse Prevented, Christmas Fluff, Comedy of Errors, Dave (Umbrella Academy) is Alive, Ensemble Cast, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Here There Be Bouts of Absurdity, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Now With More Allison Angst, Shenanigans, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_O_Lemonade/pseuds/Glass_O_Lemonade
Summary: Determined to make the winter holidays memorable for her family, Allison travels home for the entire month of December. She doesn't arrive alone. Before leaving, she invites her neighbor to spend the holidays with them. Dave believes the trip itself is Allison’s gift to him, but she has something else in mind to give him: a romantic date with one of her brothers.It’s too bad that guy with tattoos caught Dave’s attention first.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, Dave & The Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 34
Kudos: 206





	1. Nov. 29

**Author's Note:**

> Context for this AU: 
> 
> Eudora informed her department about Hazel and Cha-Cha's message, so she did not go in without backup. Hazel convinces Cha-Cha to leave the motel room first. Before he follows, Hazel sticks out his arm to shoot off a few shots to delay Eudora and Beaman. Eudora's unfortunately shot, but not fatally. 
> 
> Klaus doesn't teleport to Vietnam. Under the care/eyes/prodding of Ben & Diego, Klaus "agrees" to continue with withdrawal (knowing he likely wouldn't make it more than a day or two.) The apocalypse is averted when Vanya and Leonard-Harold arrive to the academy because the ghosts of Leonard-Harold's victims follow him, and Klaus (still experiencing withdrawal) can _literally_ see and speak to ghosts.
> 
> The Hargreeves are still dysfunctional as hell, though. Lastly, the Hargreeves have a few more encounters with the Commission before successfully living past Apocalypse Day. During one (or a few) of these Commission encounters, Klaus discovers he can manifest Ben, fostering his dedication to getting clean.
> 
> As such, Allison is never injured. Five reads through Hargreeves' notes on Vanya & helps her with her abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who voted and helped me commit to which version of this plot to write. <3 I have left my original author's note at the end of this chapter for context and history's sake. Additionally, I have included context in the first beginning note to explain how this AU diverges from canon.
> 
> All the Best,  
> Lem

Her lifeless apartment mocks her as she enters. Allison sets her suitcase and carry-on aside in the hall, before turning to lock the door. An emptiness, one that appeared as she arrived to the airport and has yet to leave, weighs her down.

Her first trip home to the academy since March, an accomplishment in and of itself after going years without _any_ visits, went relatively well, considering there wasn't an apocalypse to prevent nor funeral to attend this time. Granted, it was shorter than her previous stay, but she doubts the length's the (only) reason she feels this way, feels gray.

Allison kicks off her shoes as she steps into the living room; she doesn't bother to flick on the light switch. Some of the city's lights shine through her shear curtains. As she falls onto her couch, Allison wonders why she hasn't replaced them yet. (Something darker. More solid.) Despite her body's cravings, neither the thought of cooking nor microwaving a frozen meal appeals to her. She stares up at her ceiling in the dark as any remaining motivation she once had disappears into the cushions. Eventually, she succumbs to the overwhelming exhaustion throughout her body and falls silent to the world.

When she wakes in the morning, the emptiness from yesterday has dulled some. It takes her a while to identify it, the emptiness. Her revelation arrives on her third day back. She is leaving a meeting with her publicist and agent when she sees a family of four across the street. Inexplicably, the sight makes her pause. Their laughter drifts over the roofs of passing cars to light upon her ears. Her eyes track the smiles the four people share, their animated expressions and movements as they carry on. Allison stands there minutes after the family is no longer in sight. Slowly, she comes back to herself. She's entering her building when the encounter finally makes sense. _Family_. She misses her family. For some unknown reason, she misses them, even after just seeing them.

She should have realized sooner. Shouldn't she? When Patrick filed for divorce... when he took Claire... when he received sole custody... Has she forgotten so soon that initial ache of familial loss? Those sleepless nights.

It's strange. To miss her siblings. To miss Mom and, to her surprise, even Pogo. For years, she never did. (No. That's not correct. For years, she didn't allow herself to miss them. She couldn't.)

A calendar hangs in her kitchen, the only thing to greet her as she returns home that evening. In a week's time, July will be over, and in its place will be August. As much as she (apparently) wants to hop on a plane and fly back across the country, she knows she can't. At least, not until after filming wraps for the show her agent booked her for. Resolved to her present fate, Allison pushes her feelings aside and settles back into her usual routine as best she can.

Near the end of July, a new resident moves into the apartment across the hall from her. He introduces himself a few days after arriving, and Allison quickly takes to him. The unease and worry she felt after meeting Leonard-Harold in March never arise during her exchanges with David. The two of them often cross paths in the halls, a result of similar schedules. What starts as obligatory small talk becomes easy conversations over the course of each encounter. By the second week of September, they are no longer merely neighbors, but friends, too. It doesn't take Allison long to recognize the look of loneliness in David's eyes, nor the way his apartment feels less like a home and more like a hotel. Somewhere temporary. It's near impossible for Allison _not_ to recognize the similarities between David and herself.

Refusing to brood on her couch alone, another holiday away from Claire, Allison decides to spend Halloween with David. (And if Allison's decision was motivated, even slightly, by her therapy session earlier that day... well, that is for her and her therapist to know.)

Allison and David converse into the early morning hours. She learns more about his ex, Martin. He learns more about Patrick and Claire. Allison falls asleep on his couch, and in the morning, she realizes David may be the first genuine friend she's had in years. Definitely, the first she hasn't friended for personal gain nor rumored in a long time. Additionally, David hasn't shown any ulterior motives for befriending her. Allison mentally reminds herself to mention this development during her next counseling session. She's unsure whether she should be proud of this realization or thoroughly appalled with herself. (The latter she's familiar with already. The former, though... that's a work in progress.)

The television show wraps filming the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Vanya leaves a call on her voicemail that following Wednesday, wishing her a happy holiday. Luther phones her the morning of Thanksgiving with a similar message. The calls, despite not being her siblings’ intentions, stir up that familiar feeling of emptiness within her. That night, after eating her delivered Thanksgiving dinner for one, Allison lies awake in her bed. Various thoughts circle her head as sleep evades her.

Despite a somewhat improved relationship with Patrick, they both know there's more to address, to unpack, to make right, so it came as no surprise when he called the week before to confirm Claire would be spending the remaining holidays of 2019 with him. With this in mind and a lack of immediate projects requiring her presence, Allison comes to her decision some time past two AM. This year, she'll spend December at the academy. Once the thought hits her, she can't shake it, and the longer she thinks about it, the more the idea grows.

This December will be the first one her and each of her siblings have spent together in over a decade, and with their father no longer alive to dampen everyone's spirits, this will be the first time they can properly celebrate the holidays as a family. Considering the past year, her siblings could benefit from some merriment and cheer. Not only that. _They deserve it._ Allison is not going to miss this once in a lifetime chance to make things right with each of her siblings, to give them the best winter they have ever had. In seconds, an elaborate plan begins to formulate. She draws inspiration from her past Christmases with Patrick and Claire. (When they were still a family... But, they weren't, were they? With Allison in the picture, how could they have?) Sensing an unproductive spiral on the horizon, she forces away thoughts of herself, forces away thoughts of rumors and regrets.

Instead of shopping alongside the rest of the country, Allison spends her Black Friday booking a flight and scheduling vacation time with her team. With less than a month's time before Christmas, she cannot afford to lose a single minute. At some point, she grabs a travel-sized notebook and a pen to track her ideas as they spring to mind.

That evening finds her standing outside David's door, two plane tickets in her hand. Allison smiles one of her brighter smiles when he opens his door. David shoots her a questioning look upon noticing the tickets. With her plan now in motion, Allison wastes no time in asking her question.

"How would you like to spend December with me and my family?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ideas for two versions of this story, but I cannot decide which to commit to. Each is listed below for reader consideration. If you’re interested in reading more of this and/or would like to influence this story, please consider leaving a comment below with your thoughts and/or vote.
> 
> Option A: Post Averted Apocalypse, More Absurd than Canon-Serious, Powers, Turmoil Due to Powers, Lighter than Canon, Ghost Ben, Likely More Heavier than Option B
> 
> Option B: Post-Hargreeves’ Passing, No Powers, Alive Ben, More Absurd than Canon-Serious, Lighter than Canon, Also Likely -> Physically 30 Yr Old Five


	2. Nov. 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented, voted, and shared their thoughts on the first chapter and this overall idea. I greatly appreciate(d) it! I sincerely hope I do this concept justice for each of you. <3
> 
> ~Lem

_"How would you like to spend December with me and my family?"_

_“No one will mind you joining us.”_

_"You wouldn’t be an inconvenience.”_

_"There’s a hotel not too far from the academy. We can stay there until the weeks of Christmas and New Year’s.”_

_"If you'd rather, you are welcome to stay at the hotel over the holidays, too."_

_"When was the last time you took a vacation? The last time you went somewhere not for work, but for yourself?”_

" _A change of scenery may be the inspiration you’ve been needing.”_

In the end, it isn’t anything Allison says that convinces David to accept her gift. No. Instead, he promises to sleep on it and to tell her one way or another before seven the next morning. That night, he tosses and turns for over an hour, considering and reconsidering his options. When he finally falls asleep, he still doesn’t have an answer.

David blinks awake around five thirty AM. His eyelids are heavy, and his jaw is tight. He feels the start of a dull headache forming, a sign he likely didn’t drink enough water the day prior. David stretches out his legs under the sheets until one of his knees pop. He relaxes his jaw, releases a yawn as he rolls onto his other side. He’s about to close his eyes to sleep more, but the empty space beside him immediately dampens his restful bliss. His queen-sized mattress, which seconds ago he never wanted to leave, suddenly feels too large for only him. While he’s thinking about it, his twin nightstands seem rather ridiculous, too. Why buy two when there’s no one to use the second? Of course, that’s when he recalls Allison’s offer.

_"How would you like to spend December with me and my family?"_

Usually, David’s able to ignore the loneliness he feels at times like these, able to push through and redirect his mind onto more ~~distracting~~ productive matters. However, this morning finds him confronting both his (pathetically obvious) lack of any form of relationship, in addition to the jumble of sad that appears anytime he thinks of his own family.

In the end, it isn’t anything Allison says that convinces David to accept her gift. No. It’s his own selfish want not to be alone.

* * *

Diego never met Patrick while he dated Allison. If he was invited to their engagement party, his invitation never reached him. It wasn’t until his sister’s wedding to the man that Diego saw him in person, and by then it was too late to get a read on him. Weapons were strictly prohibited on the premises of the ceremony and reception, but Diego wasn’t completely without. To his annoyance, however, Allison repeatedly thwarted Deigo’s attempts to approach her new husband alone (while holding various dinner utensils.)

To Diego, Patrick was a complete and utter stranger, one who married his _sister_. (The guy’s still a mystery to him today.) Diego has yet to forgive himself for not putting in the time and effort then to stay in touch, to properly meet the guy Allison would eventually say, “I do,” to. 

Diego never met Patrick while he dated Allison, but on Saturday, November 30, 2019, Diego receives an opportunity to set things right. His second chance comes when Pogo recounts to him and Luther Allison’s message. She’s coming home for December. She’s coming home for December with a _friend_.

Diego sharpens his entire collection of knives that afternoon. Twice.


	3. Dec. 1

After reviewing the list of establishments Allison recommended during their flight, David settles on a diner for breakfast. (They're here for a month; plenty of time to eat generic hotel cuisine later.) He stuffs his room card and wallet in a pocket of his jacket. He leaves before he can convince himself to bring anything else, specifically his messenger bag. (For the rest of the day it, and it’s contents, remain untouched under the desk. He only brought them because Allison insisted.)

After a few attempts, he manages to flag down a taxi.

* * *

Four of her six siblings presently call the academy home again, so she decides to start her day there.

Allison arrives to the mansion at a relatively early hour; she uses her key to enter. After the Not-Pocalypse, Luther ensured everyone had access to the academy by printing copies of keys to each entrance. Allison, Diego, and Vanya hadn’t needed the new sets (though the thought was appreciated), but that wasn’t the same case for Klaus and Five. A smile tugs at her lips as she recalls how Luther made their mom and Ben sets, too. (Whether her ghost of a brother ever finds use for them is beyond her.) The keys had only been the start of a list of acts Luther did in his attempt to make amends. (Though their father's funeral and the Not-Pocalypse hadn't brought out the best of _any_ _of them_. Allison, included.) She suspects he will be one of the easier siblings to recruit to her cause.

She shrugs off her coat and lays it on the table upon entering the kitchen. To her minor disappointment, only Luther’s awake when she arrives. Hopefully, the others will be up sooner than later. Luther finishes his bite of sausage before greeting her, a smile already in his eyes.

“Where’s everyone?” Allison sits in one of the seats adjacent to his. 

"Mom’s upstairs, Pogo’s still asleep, and Klaus and Five are at work,” he lists from memory. “How was your fl-“

"Already?!” Hastily, she mentally runs through the day’s agenda. She thought she was saving time by coming here first. Apparently, she could have met up with Diego or Vanya and still not have lost any time. _Rats._ Allison wonders whether calling a family meeting will be more effective after all. She _would_ only have to say everything once if she did that...

“Uh-“ Luther lowers his glass of milk, “they open at six each morning.”

 _Of course._ She should have remembered that.

* * *

A bell rings above him as he enters Dolores’ Doughnuts. For a moment, David stands and soaks up the place’s unique atmosphere. Glancing around, he sees decorations and design choices influenced by the twenties, fifties, and sixties. He feels as if he’s traveled to the past and then some.

A few families sit at tables near the glass windows; one person sits along the wall that leads to the back reading a book. No one’s currently ordering nor sitting at the counter, so David makes his way to the register. Despite the diner’s name, David spies non-doughnut options on the menu hanging above the counter. Preoccupied with the menu, he misses when someone walks out from the kitchen to attend to him.

”Goood moorning,” the person’s delivery reminds David of that cereal commercial with the lion. Or is it a tiger? He pulls his gaze away from the soup options, doubts they even serve soup or sandwiches this early. David meets the employee’s eyes and nearly does a double take. _Damn._ He thinks, and not in the negative sense. Not at all.

”First time here?” The other man’s question draws him back to himself, and David wonders how long he was staring. He quickly looks for a name tag and sees the number four. **Hello My Name is... 4.** _Huh._

“Yeah- yes.” David gives him a nod, tries to focus his thoughts. “I’m visiting with a friend for the holidays.” 

4 claps his hands once and shoots him a grin. “Welcome stranger to my fine establishment, where all of your societally acceptable cravings and addictions are offered.”

David wouldn’t necessarily say he craved doughnuts nor cheap coffee, but he enjoys the introduction, nonetheless. Especially, 4’s jazz hands afterwards. Someone makes a rather loud snort then. 4 turns their head towards the guy reading and replies with a sharp hiss.

”Is he,” starts David, but he drifts off, unsure whether to be concerned or not about the customer. 4 shakes their head.

”Ben’s a friend. An _aggravating nuisance_ ,” 4 says that last part louder, likely for Ben's benefit, “but a friend.”

”Alright,” David glances down as he reaches in his pocket for his wallet. When he looks back up, he absently notices Ben’s no longer at his table. _Huh._

“Ready to order, stranger?”

”Dave.” 4 blinks at him. “My name,” he clarifies. David’s tongue may run over his chapped lips once or twice throughout this exchange, but only as a way to moisten them. Really. (He's unsure why he says his nickname, especially after trying for months to start fresh. _New city. New apartment. New David Katz_.)

In that moment, 4’s expression mimics that of a cat who caught a canary. David thinks the look must be in response to seeing the size of his wallet (completely misreading 4’s reaction for what it actually is.)

”Klaus,” he sticks out his right hand. David catches sight of the word ‘hello’ tattooed on his palm.

David shakes his hand and attempts to ignore how nice Klaus’ hand feels in his.

* * *

Allison sits back in her chair, gaze steady on Luther’s reaction. His face appears _grim_ , but knowing him for as long as she has, it’s clear her brother’s simply in deep thought.

”Allison, that is,” he searches for the appropriate word, but, after coming up empty, settles for, “a lot. Do you have enough time for everything?” He doesn’t bother to inquire how she intends to finance her plan (or more accurately, _plans_ ), aware of how much they each received after their father’s passing; not to mention the millions she’s made as an actress.

”I do. That’s why I’m here _now_. I need everyone’s help if this is to succeed.”

“I’ll help,” he reassures her, “but..."

She waits and ignores the spark of dread Luther's hesitance lights.

"I have some questions."

 _Questions_. Those she can deal with. "Ask away."

"First, regarding David, do you think they’ll actually- like each other?”

“They may not,” she concedes, a worry she’s had already. “However, I’m not asking them to marry each other.” That outcome is a long shot for anyone, and Allison is not too proud to admit that. “As long as they go on one date together, I can mark them off my list. After the year they’ve had...” Luther gently rests a hand on her shoulder, offers her a smile of encouragement.

”I think they'll appreciate it."

She wants to reply with, _I hope so._ She wants to say, _I hope everyone does._ She wants to voice her fear, _I hope this isn't for nothing._ But she says none of this. Instead, she asks, "What's your next concern?"

* * *

David ends up buying a dozen doughnuts, ten kolaches, and two large coffees. If Klaus notices the twenty he slips into the tip jar, he doesn’t mention it.

David’s halfway down the sidewalk when he realizes that 1) he intended to only buy a single glazed doughnut and a breakfast burrito, and 2) he can’t remember his hotel’s address.

Shit.


	4. Dec. 2

“He left a _twenty,_ ” Ben reminds him for the umpteenth time in two days, as if this time around Klaus will be convinced. (He isn’t.) Why Ben’s making some stranger Klaus’ll likely never see again a whole thing is beyond him. (Ben argues it’s the fact Klaus was “obviously interested in him,” but when has that ever equated to reciprocated interest? Scratch that, when has that ever led to a ~~healthy~~ relationship that lasted longer than three weeks or (more often) a few hookups? Answer: Never.) They exit the bathroom and head towards the main stairs.

”Which, _again_ , does not imply anything.”

”That’s it.” Ben throws up his arms in exasperation. “Materialize me.”

“What? No!”

“Why not? Because you know they’ll agree with me?”

”First? No. Second? Also no.”

Ben grumbles something not worth repeating behind him. As they enter the parlor, Vanya motions for them to join her. She’s at the end of one of the couches, leaving the other spaces free for him and Ben. Allison and Diego occupy the chairs nearest the fireplace. Lastly, Luther and Five sit on the opposite couch.

Allison stands the moment Klaus (and Ben) sit down. Five lowers the day’s newspaper and methodically folds it back up before resting it on the coffee table.

Ben leans over then. “Twenty bucks; she’s pregnant.”

”Shh, and no she’s not,” Klaus mutters in reply.

”What?” Vanya turns towards them, curiosity flickers in her gaze. _Shoot_. Over half a year has past, and Klaus still occasionally forgets about Vanya’s enhanced hearing. He flaps a hand at her as he leans back into the couch.

Allison clears her throat. “Before I start, may Ben join us? This involves him, too.”

Klaus gives his brother a warning glare before materializing him. Ben attempts to school his face, but finds it difficult to mask his (annoyingly) confident smirk with a more reserved expression.

 _Don’t be pregnant. Don’t be pregnant._ Klaus really doesn’t want to lose twenty dollars to Ben for a _fourth_ time. He should _probably_ also stop taking his brother up on every bet.

“I meant to do this yesterday, but with everyone's schedules,” Allison walks past them, between the table and couch. She stops at the end before pivoting back towards them. She moves as if she were on a red carpet or runway: professional and deliberate. “Regardless, we’re here now.”

” _Why_ are we here?” Five queries as he flicks sprinkles from work off of his pants. Klaus’ gaze follows the tiny candy snowflakes as they fall to the floor. Icing clings to his brother’s nail beds. Klaus wonders if there’s still glaze from the morning in his own hair. Neither of them had time to clean-up before this family meeting was called.

Allison’s voice softens as she continues. ”This is our first winter together since we were kids, and our first without Dad.” She waits as realization dawns upon them. “This is our opportunity to celebrate the holidays as a family.”

An awkward silence descends upon the room. Luther coughs into his fist, but he makes no further attempt to ease the moment. Allison’s eager expression starts to wilt as the seconds pass. Finally, Diego breaks the tension.

”You want us,” he gestures towards them all in disbelief, “to do Christmas? Allison, we’re thirty.”

Five immediately refutes their brother’s statement, “59.”

”Christmas and New Year’s.” Allison clarifies. Diego only shoots her a skeptical look. “Diego, you of all people can’t convince me you’ve never wanted to open presents under a tree or set off fireworks.”

”Yeah, when I was _eight_.”

”Let’s hear her out,” suggests Luther. Five nods to that, his brow slightly furrowed. It’s clear to each of them their elder brother’s giving Allison’s words genuine consideration. The fact it's Five who seems the most interested comes as a bit of a surprise to Klaus, but then again, he doubts there was much (if anything) to celebrate during the apocalypse. Did the Commission throw office parties? Now that's a train of thought he definitely needs to ask his brother about.

”Thank you.”

Diego breathes out a pseudo-huff, but settles back into his chair. His mouth shuts and forms into a tight line. A classic 'not pouting' pout.

The six Hargreeves listen (with varying degrees of interest) as Allison dives into the purpose for this meeting. She describes decorating the academy, names holiday films they can watch, mentions “Secret Santa” and “White Elephant.” It's clear there's more she wants to say, but now and then she pauses and starts on a different thought. No one wonders how nor why she knows so much about Christmas, a holiday their father never acknowledged. The palpable absence of Patrick and Claire from her words is the only explanation any of them need.

In the end, Allison’s excitement for the season successfully infects each of them. Diego’s the least vocal in his support. (However, he's no longer scowling at the idea of a Hargreeves’ Holiday, so Allison takes the win for what it is.)

Vanya asks about Allison’s timeline.

”We have twenty-three days until the 25th,” Allison says. “There's no time like the present. Five, may you grab a pen and paper?”

Five teleports away in a flash of blue before reappearing next to her, pen and notebook in hand.

”Thanks.” Allison lays the items on the table before bending onto her knees. She quickly writes seven names. Then, she rips the sheet out and tears off the names to form seven slips that she hurriedly folds. There’s a bowl left from earlier, so she pulls it closer to her and drops the slips in. Rising back to her feet, bowl in hand, her excitement, previously dulled, bubbles back to a roar. She smiles wide as she instructs them. ”Draw a name, but only keep it if it’s not yours.”

* * *

Diego corners her as she’s pulling on her jacket to leave. Now and then he taps a knife strapped across his waist. She’s unsure if he’s aware he’s doing so.

”When you called, Pogo mentioned you weren’t coming alone.”

Allison hums in confirmation. She shoves her Secret Santa name into her right pocket. “And?”

”And,” Diego crosses his arms, expression suddenly serious. “When do we get to meet him?”

”By ‘we,’ you mean you.” Her observation fails to ruffle her brother. "It isn't what you think."

"Enlighten me. What do I think it is?"

Allison bites back a groan. From the corner of her eye she sees Ben and Klaus bickering as they step out from the parlor.

"Not right now, Diego" she sighs.

"Then when?"

"Soon. I promise."

When his fingers close around the hilt of one of his knives, she reads it for what it is: a warning for David.

 _Crap._ She thinks on her way out. _This may be a problem._


	5. Dec. 3

A familiar knock pattern finally rouses David from his bed. “Coming,” he calls. He slides his feet into his slippers before reaching the door.

Allison, already fully dressed, raises her brows as he greets her. ”Late night?”

David steps aside to let her in. “Sadly, no.” He hasn’t looked in a mirror yet, but he’s sure he looks well beyond disheveled going off of Allison’s expression.

Allison pulls out the desk chair to sit. When the wheels catch on something, she notices his messenger bag. David pointedly avoids her questioning gaze. He heads towards the bed and occupies his hands with remaking it.

”Thought you’d be eating breakfast at home again,” he says when Allison doesn’t comment on his (lack of) progress.

”I have something to discuss with you. Besides, there’ll be plenty of Mom’s cooking when we stay there.”

David murmurs an agreement, not immediately comprehending Allison’s words. _“...when we stay there.”_ He stops mid pillow fluff. “We?”Had he agreed to that?

”David, I know we can afford these rooms until January, but I thought we could stay at the academy. Only if you still want to, that is,” she adds. “We’d stay a few days before Christmas through New Year’s.”

He sets the pillow down and sinks onto the bed. Right. He remembers Allison mentioning that to him. She even reassured him the place had as many bedrooms as a motel. If only that was what worried him.

He runs a hand through his hair and scrunches his nose when he catches a whiff of himself. Allison shoots him her expression she saves for moments like this. He’s dubbed it her ‘Mom Frown.’

“I know, I know,” he rolls his shoulders, “You caught me early.” He doesn’t mention that if she hadn’t shown, he likely would have stayed in bed until noon.

”Well,” Allison stands, “I’ll leave you to get ready. Meet downstairs in thirty?”

”Twenty, and, yeah, sure. Breakfast?”

”Breakfast.”

* * *

David nearly chokes on his omelette.

Allison jumps to her feet, but he waves her away, his other hand a tight fist on his chest. Allison returns to her seat cautiously, eyes trained on him. He manages to cough some of it up into his napkin. He briefly splutters afterwards, before taking a large gulp of water.

Apologies fly from Allison’s lips, but he cuts her off and assures her he’s fine.

”I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that,” he explains.

Allison rubs the back of her neck. ”I could have phrased it differently, myself.”

“Why do you want to know?” He replies, curious.

“You’re nearing a year since...” She doesn’t say _his_ name, instead she shoots her French toast a quick glare before continuing. “And since you agreed to come on this trip with me,” she meets David’s eyes, “I can’t help but wonder whether you’re open to dating again.”

His first impulse is to deny any interest in dating and romance, to pessimistically pledge his future to an eternity of lonliness. In contrast, his second impulse is to blindly agree and to throw all of his reservations (reasonable or not) to the wind. David does neither. Instead, he sits silently and genuinely ponders his stance. Familiar doubts creep into his mind. Phantom shouts and insults sound around him. Despite Martin’s shadow, it isn’t his face that flits through David’s thoughts.

He doesn’t know he’s smiling until Allison mentions it.

”Is that a yes?” Allison’s voice sounds a hint too eager for his comfort. David quickly shoves a forkful of cheese and egg into his mouth to avoid providing an immediate response. Allison leans back in her chair satisfied, takes his avoidance as confirmation. “I have never seen you make that face before. You looked like a lo-“ Allison doesn’t finish saying _love-struck fool_ because another thought strikes her. David watches, lost, as worry suddenly shades her expression as her voice drifts. His friend swiftly masks it. David wonders whether he even saw it to begin with.

Allison reaches for her mug, her manicured fingers tightening around the handle to an uncomfortable degree. “You appeared to have someone special on your mind. Have you met someone?”

“I wouldn’t call them _special_ ,” David starts carefully.

”But, you _have_ met someone.” He nods. “Here?”

“I visited one of the restaurants you recommended on Sunday. Allison, the guy had to talk to me because I was a customer. I doubt he even remembers me. And on the slimmest of chances he does, who’s to say he’s even single?” _Who’s to say I’m capable of dating again?_ David doesn’t voice that last question.

Allison’s face seems uncharacteristically tight when she replies, encourages him to see him again. “If he’s uninterested, then you’ll know.”

David doesn’t notice how her smile seems a size too big, how her eyes crinkle a dash too much, how her hand flexes around her mug of coffee. David doesn’t know about the giant wrecking ball his encounter just released into her mind. _(Its trajectory? Christmas.)_

“What’s the worse that can happen?” He muses aloud.

* * *

“What’s the worse that can happen?” Renewed determination fills his voice.

Allison smiles and raises her drink to lightly bump against David’s.

 _What’s the worse? This! This is the worse!_ In a different life, Allison may have wished ill will towards her friend’s crush, might have even gone as far as to rumor the poor guy, not to mention David. _In a different life_.

No, despite her overactive thoughts, all Allison feels in this moment is happiness for her friend. She knows David's relationship with his mystery waiter may not develop further than another conversation or two, but she doesn't want to unintentionally (or purposefully) spoil his chances at happiness. Even if he happens to find it before her gift's ready. In the end, it's still the same outcome. (For David at least.)

_If David's crush reciprocates, I'm screwed... What the hell do I give Klaus for Christmas if his blind date's already taken?_

* * *

At the tingling of the bell, Ben peers over his book, more out of habit than interest. There stands Dave, the guy from Sunday, twenty dollar tip man.

_This should be good._

Klaus, he knows, won't be back for another four to six minutes (maybe even ten) as Five may have (definitely) forgot to turn off the ovens and fryer before he teleported to the grocery store for more ingredients. (He absently thinks he should probably be more concerned by how often similar situations like this have occurred, but he's not.) Ben hits his knee against the bottom of his table and internally smiles when the resulting pain confirms he’s still corporeal. If Klaus is as uninterested in Dave as he claims, then he won’t mind Ben ~~messing~~ _chatting_ with him.

”Dave, right?” Ben calls and gestures to the empty seat across from him. Dave glances around before joining him by the wall.

”Is lunch usually this dead?”

 _If only you knew._ ”Haven’t heard a more accurate statement all day. Ben,” he offers his hand, and Dave is quick to shake it.

“Klaus’ friend.”

 _Oh, this is too easy._ “You could say that.” Ben meets Dave’s inquiring gaze with his own steady one, maintains his face as emotionless as possible.

Dave glances towards the counter, but no one’s there, yet. Ben notes the swallow Dave makes, interprets the minute changes in his expression as him considering whether to ask his question or not. To Ben’s delight, Dave asks. “How long have you known each other?”

“Since we were kids. On rare nights, we met here and scarfed down donuts together.”

”Now he,” Dave makes a small gesture, indicates the rest of the building.

”Owns it.” _Half of it._

“Good for him.” Dave absently taps a finger atop the table.

_More than you know._

Right then, Klaus exits the kitchen in characteristic flourish. He casually sashays out. Ben practically senses his brother’s feeling of accomplishment for having handled the kitchen situation. A rag lays over each of his shoulders, his hair’s secured under a hairnet, and another net covers his facial hair (less so for hygiene purposes and more so because he _can._ Not to mention it irritates Five whenever he does.) His skirt sports a few new stains, and Ben spies flour randomly scattered on his person. Ben flicks his eyes back to Dave. The guy’s entire disposition seems lighter with Klaus here, despite Klaus’ less than put-together appearance.

Seeing them, Klaus walks out from behind the counter to join them.

”Ben, my better half, what have you been telling Dave here?” Klaus stops behind his chair, rests an elbow on one of his shoulders.

“Not much,” he shrugs with his unoccupied shoulder.

“Sincerest sympathies for the wait,” Klaus addresses Dave. (Both ignore Ben’s muttered _“It’s apologies.”_ ) “If you’d still like to order, I must inform you we only have soups at the moment.”

”Soup sounds great.”

Dave follows Klaus to the counter and takes one of the stools for himself. Ben returns to his book, his fun done for the day. When Dave orders to go (a choice, Ben suspects, influenced partly by him), Ben takes note of the way Klaus seems to move slower behind the register. Dave makes no indication he’s aware of Klaus’ change in service speed. Ben doubts his brother’s consciously aware of it, either. The diner falls quiet as Klaus heads to the kitchen to prepare Dave’s soup. When Klaus returns, Ben thinks he hears the telltale sound of Five teleporting back.

Neither Klaus nor Dave say anything beyond a standard exchange between a restaurant employee and customer to one another. No last names, phone numbers, nor pick-up lines are exchanged. Dave leaves a ten in the tip jar (for a nine dollar soup), before leaving. Klaus watches him go, a (dreamy) sigh upon his lips.

 _Not interested, my ass._ Ben shakes his head, bites back a smirk. _Idiots. The both of them._


	6. Dec. 4

**4:51 AM**

For some inexplainable reason, Five Hargreeves does not wake up in his own bed, but instead on the floor of his bedroom. He knows, immediately and irrefutably, that this day is doomed.

* * *

**8:04 AM**

Five wipes his hands on his pants before he teleports to the office. He picks up the phone on its third ring. ”You have reached Dolores’ Doughnuts. State your intent, or this call will end.” The last voice he expects to hear is Vanya in (what he interprets to be) a panicked rush.

”Five! I need your help, Alli-“

Five grips the phone tighter as he interrupts, “Vanya, tell me where you are.” He draws forth his ability, feels the hair along his arms and neck begin to tingle with energy.

“No, no, I’m not in-“

“Give me two minutes, and I will get Klaus and-“

”Five! Allison’s my Secret Santa.”

There’s a beat of silence on both ends of the call. Then another.

“You called me,” Five’s eye twitches, “ _at work_ , to tell me Allison has you for Secret Santa.”

”No, Five, I have Allison, but I-“

Five jumps away, leaves the phone hanging off of the desk by its cord.

”Five? Five?”

* * *

**9:57 AM**

When Five returns from restocking the display, Ben is _still sitting on the counter_ beside the industrial sized sink. “Whose name do you have?” Ben swings his legs back and forth; the heels of his shoes lightly bang against the closed cabinets upon each return.

”Why have I not fired you, yet?”

“You don’t pay me.”

”Then _why_ are you _still in my kitchen?_ ” Five asks through gritted teeth.

Ben hops off the counter and dusts himself off. “You’re out of almond milk.”

 _That’s it._ Five turns away from him. Ben realizes what he’s going to do too late. "Five-"

"Klaus!” Five calls loud enough for his brother to hear him from the register. “We have a 666!"

5, 4, 3, 2-

Five watches, smugly satisfied, as Ben dematerializes.

* * *

**12:26 PM**

As Five has learned throughout his life, people are more likely to let their guard down around children they presume to be weak and innocent and ignorant. Originally, the fact he arrived to 2019 in his thirteen year old body ceaselessly reminded him of each and everyone of his failures. (Additionally, it frustrated him beyond belief.) However, as time has past and the distance from his original timeline’s apocalypse date has continued to widen, Five has embraced his predicament more and more. Take right now for example: Five, sitting outside his diner, beside a table of free osso buco samples.

The “Lunch Rush,” Five has come to realize, is nothing more than a myth for establishments like his, but Five has never been one to give up when confronted with a challenge. Every ten minutes or so, he teleports back to the kitchen to switch out his current platter of samples with a heated one.

Five settles back into his seat, and he rewraps his scarf around his neck. Across the street, a man with a messenger bag darts through the traffic towards him. Five puts on his most charming of smiles.

”Afternoon,” greets Five once the stranger stops in front of his table. “May I interest you in a sample of our new osso buco?”

“‘Three Week Boyfriend’s Osso Buco,’” reads bag guy. “Interesting name.”

”For an interesting story,” Five adds. He hopes his usual snark isn’t as overt, as he fears it is.

”Do you mind sh-“

Five cuts him off. “I sell food not anecdotes. Do you want a try or not?” He mentally shakes himself for replying harsher than necessary. _I need coffee._

”Oh, of course,” the stranger says in an apologetic tone. Five observes as the man pops one of the samples into his mouth, forgoing small bites. It takes a few chews before his entire expression sours in (poorly disguised) disgust. His cheeks puff out, likely in order to spit the meat and risotto out, but upon seeing Five’s critical gaze trained solely on him, the stranger decides (wisely) to swallow it down. The act appears to be a struggle for him.

_Note: The osso buco needs further testing._

“That was,” he coughs a few times, “unique.”

”Don’t patronize me.”

The man seems to pale at that. “No, no, I wasn’t-“

Five waves him off, already disinterested. Five sets an elbow on the table to rest his head in his hand. He sighs, debates whether to tell Klaus or have Ben tell him the osso buco recipe’s off. It was always a possibility. Klaus and Ben put their memories of the dish together to make it. Ingredients, proportions, and steps were bound to be misremembered or forgotten. He glances up, still in thought, to find the man is still there. He’s moved a step or two, but his departure looks unlikely. Five turns around to see what’s caught his attention. Through the window Five sees Klaus and Ben behind the counter acting like fools while laughing themselves silly. Neither of them appear to have noticed him nor the man. _If they break another espresso machine..._

Five turns back around and crosses his arms. ”May I help you?” There’s no welcoming smile on his face this time.

The man blinks, as if he forgot Five was there. “Sorry. I- Well,” he scratches his neck. “I’ve noticed they seem close.”

That is not what Five predicts him to say, but his hackles minutely lower. If he were here to harm him or his brothers, Five suspects he would have already done so. No longer on alert, Five offers him a nod in agreement. “They’re practically an old married couple,” he complains. _And they give me and Dolores grief._ Five expects a short, uncomfortable, obligatory chuckle in response. To his bewilderment, the stranger looks almost crestfallen.

Without another word, the man walks away, a slight sag in his shoulders.

Five realizes later the guy never thanked him for the free sample. _Effing ungrateful..._

* * *

**2:49 PM**

Five has his hands full with cooking afternoon orders, but does this stop his brother from barging into the kitchen? No.

Five spares the intruder one glance before returning to his work. "Why are you here?"

Diego strolls towards the knife block. “It’s great to see you, too.”

”Answer the question.”

”I need your help with,” Diego clears his throat and lowers his voice before he continues, “Secret Santa.”

“No.”

”What?”

” _No_.” Five slams the oven shut and practically drops the dish of meatloaf onto the stove to cool. “ _I am at work.”_

”Come on, Five. Vanya said she called you. I already bought my white elephant yesterday, and I‘m not going to be the last one to get-“

“You think it’s a race?”

”What? No,” Diego denies, “I meant-“

Five turns then. Diego takes a few steps backwards, an instinctual survival response to seeing his older brother’s expression.

”You are an _adult_. Secret Santa isn’t a f***ing competition.”

Diego’s gone within seconds.

* * *

**4:03 PM**

The bell jingles, and Five knows Klaus will be in the bathroom for another four minutes (too long.) He crouches down before teleporting to the cash register. There he stands, faux smile plastered on his face. It’s gone the moment he realizes who walked in.

“Order or leave.”

His sister only raises a brow at his curtness. “Two large chai teas to go.”

He rings up Allison’s order and hands her the receipt. She silently waits on a stool as he works. Klaus returns as Five hands Allison her teas. He gives them a wave as he passes to check the baked goods display. Allison stands and starts to pull the drinks towards her, but Five firmly holds them still. He meets her questioning gaze. “You owe me.”

“For?”

Five scowls. “Not stabbing any of our siblings.”

Allison’s not sure whether to frown or laugh. She settles for a short nod. “Noted.”

* * *

**6:01 PM**

Luther hears the front door open, followed by Klaus and Ben’s voices. He hurriedly pulls himself up into a sitting position on the couch. A familiar crackling fills the air, and then Five’s by the bar, rifling through cabinets.

”How was your day?” He’s unsure if Five doesn’t hear him or is merely ignoring him, so Luther asks again slightly louder. Still silence.

Five pulls out two bottles and makes fast work of popping off their lids. Luther would be more concerned by the sight of his physically underage brother about to drink if they hadn’t replaced the alcohol in the academy months ago with-

“Five, you’re aware that’s sparkling water,” Luther checks for a sign of surprise, recognition, disgust, _anything_ , but his words do nothing to deter his brother. Instead, Five shoots him a condescending look. “No shit,” he snaps. In a blink, Five’s gone, both bottles, too.

_Must have been a bad day._


	7. Dec. 5

**_12/3/20_ **

  * _Claire - coordinate with Patrick_
  * _Luther - ???_
  * _Diego - ~~spoons~~ ???_
  * _Klaus - blind date_
  * _Five - ???_
  * _Ben - ask Klaus_
  * _Vanya - rosin_
  * _Mom - art museum_
  * _Pogo - ???_
  * _Dave - blind date_
  * _~~Patrick~~ Patrick - ask therapist_
  * _~~Dolores~~_



**_12/5/20_ **

  * _Claire - coordinate with Patrick_
  * _Luther - lazer tag_
  * _Diego - ~~spoons~~ ???_
  * _Klaus - blind date_
  * _Five - personal alert/security system_
  * _Ben - ask Klaus_
  * _Vanya - ~~rosin~~ ???_
  * _Mom - art museum_
  * _Pogo - ???_
  * _Dave - blind date_
  * _~~Patrick~~ Patrick - ask therapist_
  * _~~Dolores~~ Dolores- ask therapist_



* * *

There are days when he longs for silence and solitude, to be the only inhabitant of the academy once more. These days often find him in his bedroom, usually sleeping longer than normal, or hiding away in the attic. Then there are days when there is never _enough_ people within the academy’s walls, days he craves conversation, interaction, _acknowledgement_. On those days, he lounges downstairs or roams the halls. More commonly, he seeks out Mom or Pogo and passes his time in their quiet company.

Yesterday was a latter kind of day. Luther unintentionally overslept, missing breakfast with Five and Klaus before they left for work. By the time he made it downstairs, Mom had placed his own food into the refrigerator to wait for him. He lost track of time after that. He recalls dusting, biking through the first floor, sharing lunch with Pogo. However, everything mostly blurs together for him. Shortly after five o’clock chimed through the mansion, Luther made his way to sit on one of the parlor’s couches to await his brothers’ return. Eventually, he stretched out onto his back, rested one leg over the arm of the couch and his other on the floor. At the sound of the front door unlocking, he pulled himself back into a sitting position.

Five quickly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him nor anyone else that evening, so Luther shared dinner with Klaus and Ben (well, whenever Klaus consciously thought to make him visible.)

It seems today, too, is more of the same.

He busies himself for most of the day, manages not to dwell too long on the unnerving quiet at any given moment. These are the days the too large, too lifeless academy too easily reminds him of his ~~mi-~~ time away. He’s been planet-side for close to ten months, but there seems to be no end to life’s reminders. Luther wonders when- _if_ it’ll ever stop... if he’ll ever feel like himself again.

When Allison calls in the late afternoon, Luther hopes she’s phoning to say she’s headed over. Despite that not being the case, her message does add a lightness to his steps the past few days lacked. Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.

”Mom,” Luther stops outside the doorway to the laundry room, not wanting to crowd the small space by walking in.

”Yes?” She turns her neck to see him.

”That was Allison. She’s bringing David to family dinner tomorrow.”

Grace smiles. “Wonderful. We’ll have a full house.” Luther shares her sentiments, but, unfortunately, not for long.

When Luther wakes on Friday morning, it isn’t eagerness for the evening that fills him. It’s apprehension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: 1,000+ words of Hargreeves (+Dave) Family Dinner: where nothing, _absolutely nothing_ , will go wrong.


End file.
